


Traditions

by ljunattainable



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Challenges, Christmas, Domestic, M/M, Season/Series 05, spn-j2-xmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:19:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljunattainable/pseuds/ljunattainable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Domestic fic. A traditional Christmas with Dean and Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traditions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [visionshadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/visionshadows/gifts).



For a long time Dean had vaguely wondered where Cas went after he’d been chucked out of Heaven but he wasn’t with them. 

Of course, he knew Cas was searching for God but he didn’t really know what that entailed; sometimes he came and helped them out, and sometimes he asked them for help; sometimes they blew him off for a few hours or days, when they were exhausted and despondent.  Dean had always thought that he must go _somewhere_ when they did that.  The first time he’d openly wondered and actually asked, Cas had told him he’d stood in the rain by the side of the road for hours, waiting and meditating.  Cas’ Angel mojo wasn’t what it was and he was fussy about what he used it up on.  He’d had the sniffles for a week, which is why Dean had asked in the first place.  Dean had suggested, in a jokey way, but with genuine concern, that Cas should get somewhere to stay.  With an actual roof and actual weather-proofing.

And it turned out, that’s what he did.

Dean had only really found out by accident.  A disastrous hunt, in the middle of nowhere, had left them miles from the Impala, miles from Sam and miles from anywhere even vaguely resembling medical care, which is what they both needed.  Cas hadn’t been able to do anything magical with Dean’s injuries, which luckily were more bloody and painful than life-threatening.  He’d managed to staunch the flow of gushing blood on his own but didn’t want to spare more grace than he had to because he needed it for flying.  They’d rung Sam to check in and then they’d flown to Cas’ place because it turned out it was the easiest place for Cas to get to when he was injured or wasn’t feeling well.

Cas’ place was kinda weird, because…well…partly because Cas had a place at all, but mostly because it _wasn’t_ weird.  It was small and basic but it was normal, bachelor pad comfortable and it had everything Dean would have if it were his.  They’d sat on the huge, comfy sofa and with bandages and suture kits from the amply supplied first-aid cabinet they’d sown and bandaged each other’s injuries before falling asleep, in an entirely platonic way, at opposite sides of the huge comfy bed. 

When Dean had woke, Cas was already up.  Dean hadn’t been worried as he could hear calm, pottering noises from elsewhere in the…house? Apartment?  Dean wasn’t sure.  Dean found a simple but well-fitted bathroom he didn’t remember seeing last night and when he’d peed and showered he’d wandered down the hall and discovered, to his pleasure and surprise, Cas had a well-kept larder and he could cook.  The light, fluffy pancakes with crispy bacon and the banana milkshake and Columbian coffee were better than anything Dean had ever tasted in any diner anywhere.

It happened that Cas’ place was neither a house nor an apartment.  It was real enough but it was like the beautiful room – it existed on some sort of plane between dimensions.  Cas had explained it to him but Dean didn’t really get it and had decided to file it under ‘I don’t need to know that’. 

After that first visit, Dean kept going back when he could; Cas would stop by on his way and pick him up.  It was cozy and homely and Cas could really cook and made the most awesome pies, and well, Dean liked Cas’ company as a change from Sam’s every once in a while and Sam seemed to like the occasional night on his own too.  Dean gradually started leaving some stuff there until all his stuff, except the small bag he used for hunting, was there.  Cas didn’t seem to mind and they never seemed to be under each other’s feet and Dean got the feeling Cas just added extra room as he needed it.  Dean was now fairly sure that he hadn’t just not seen the bathroom the first night he was there, it actually hadn’t existed until the morning.

By the time Dean had fully moved in, the place had magically got a bit bigger to accommodate his things and him; he’d smirked when a soundproofed room where he could play his music as loud as he liked without disturbing Cas suddenly appeared.  Cas never created a second bedroom though and Dean never asked him to.  They always shared the one big, comfy bed, though Castiel didn’t often sleep as such, just lay and meditated.  At some point platonic had turned to resting wrapped around each other (it turned out Cas was a cuddler; who’d have known?) and then to kissing, which had turned to making out, which had turned to full-on making love (as Dean called it sarcastically; Cas just called it sex.)  They’d become a couple naturally without anyone making a big thing about it, especially Dean or Cas, probably because they’d already been a couple for a long time before the kissing, cuddling and making love (having sex).

They were still hunting of course; they were still fighting ghosts and witches and demons everywhere they went, trying to kill Lucifer or put him back in his cage.  Dean still spent most of his time in motels with Sam, eating in shitty diners and Cas still spent most of his time off searching for God and checking in when he felt like it. 

These days, Dean always let Cas know where he was, but Dean rarely knew where Cas was because he could move so far so fast and it was difficult to pin him down to a location.  Dean had Sam to watch his back and Cas had no-one.  Dean would be lying if he said that didn’t scare the crap out of him, so Dean luxuriated in the rare occasions they had when they could stay at Cas’ place, which was now their place, and one of those occasions, Dean had decided, was going to be Christmas.  God only knew (or no doubt he would if Cas could find him), this might be not only their first ever Christmas together, but maybe their last. 

Dean had never had a real Christmas that he could remember.  He’d been 4 when he’d had the last one with his Mom and Dad.  He’d made a few attempts with Sammy but it wasn’t really successful given what he’d had to work with.  Dean knew this was the closest he was going to get to his white picket-fence life and he was good with that.  Castiel wasn’t his make-do.  Cas was his soul-mate, corny as he knew that sounded.

Cas had never had a Christmas, of course, and Dean could tell Cas didn’t really understand why he wanted to do it.  Cas had tilted his head to one side while he’d thought about what Dean was suggesting, the blue eyes clear and bright peering into Dean’s soul, before simply saying “Okay, if that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.”  The invitations went to the only family they wanted to invite – Sam and Bobby – come to Christmas at Cas and Dean’s.  Sam and Bobby had ribbed Dean something rotten about how domestic it was, but for some reason left Cas alone.  Dean thought they were a little weirded out by the idea of Christmas with a real-live Angel.

Once Cas was on board, he was taking it seriously.  He told Dean to leave everything to him; that he was going to give Dean the Christmas he wanted as a present.  Dean was a little bit worried about what Cas might decide a traditional family Christmas would be like, but he didn’t want to hurt his feelings so he agreed.  Cas spent lots of time on the internet, researching Christmas and a week before Christmas day, stuff started appearing and changing in their home. 

The first thing to arrive came after Cas went off hunting for God for a couple of days.  When he picked Dean up to go home for the night, Dean found a Christmas tree in the living room, that Cas had picked up in Norway (apparently, that’s where the best ones come from, according to Cas).  Dean had thought they’d get an artificial one, but apparently not.  The tree was huge, but somehow the room seemed to have grown to accommodate it.  It was bright green and bushy and sat in a big pot covered in gold and silver paper.  It came with two white doves, which Dean thought was a bit over the top, though he didn’t say anything.  The doves seemed happy sitting around mostly and liked coming down and perching on their shoulders, one on Dean’s and one on Cas’ where their shoulders met together in the middle of the couch.  Dean was happy enough with the doves once he worked out they were some kind of magic doves that didn’t poop.  He’d been a little on edge before that.

It wasn’t often they spent more than one night in a row at their home, but the week before Christmas was proving to be a bit of an exception.  The next night, Cas came home with a box full of tree decorations from all over the world – baubles and tinsel and stars and bows and chocolate – and they spent the evening decorating the tree.  Dean had winked and told Cas it was traditional to have an Angel for the top of the tree.  Cas winked back, gave the small smile that counted for a full-on grin, and pulled a small box from out of sight behind the sofa.  He gave it to Dean.  Dean opened it and nearly choked.  He pulled out the little figurine with charcoal wings and wearing a doll’s trenchcoat and put it on top of the tree, nearly falling off the chair he was standing on when his body kept shaking with all the laughter.  Cas had smiled and watched and looked happy that Dean was happy and Dean decided not to ruin the moment by pointing out that it was a ‘moment’.

The night after that, mistletoe appeared in every doorway and hung over the counter in the kitchen where Cas spent most of his time when he was cooking.  Dean wandered around peering with a dirty grin at all the mistletoe.  “You do know I’m a given, right?”  he asked, wrapping his arms round Cas’ waist and planting a long, slow kiss on the Angel’s lips, then trailing smaller kisses down his jaw and, when Cas rolled his head back, along the exposed line of Cas’ neck.

Cas gave a pleased sigh, “hmmm, but it’s traditional.”  He paused and looked at Dean with unblinking blue, “and it seems to be working.”

Dean snorted in amusement, and pecked a few more kisses on Cas’ face, catching his nose and his chin before dragging back to his mouth, “you think you’re not getting enough - you just gotta ask, man.”  Not much else Christmas-related got done that night.

The next thing to arrive was a little unexpected.  Okay, a lot unexpected.  Two reindeer appeared in the garden, munching on grass and on the lichen growing on the trees.  This was quite unexpected to Dean because he hadn’t realized they even had a garden until now.  Judging by how tired Castiel seemed that evening, Dean suspected they hadn’t had a garden before.  Dean started to feel a little guilty about the effort Cas was going to for a Christmas that was essentially Dean’s idea.  But Cas did seem to be enjoying himself.  Dean decided he was going to get Cas an awesome Christmas present as his way of saying thanks, but there’s only 3 days left till Christmas and Dean has no idea what Cas would like; what the hell do you get an Angel of the Lord for Christmas?

It really didn’t help when the next evening a little pile of wrapped presents appeared under the tree.  They weren’t wrapped very neatly and Dean was secretly pleased that Cas wasn’t good at everything.  Dean checked out the labels.  One for Sam, one for Bobby and one for Dean.  He needed to get Cas’ present sorted pretty quick.  He picked up the present with his name on it and shook it to see if it rattled.  It didn’t. 

Cas stuck his head through the door and scowled.  “What are you doing, Dean?” the gravelly voice asked, mildly disapproving.

“It’s traditional to try and guess what your present is,” Dean replied making no apologies, but replacing the box under the tree anyway.

“Hmmpph,” muttered Castiel, disappearing back into the kitchen, before returning with homemade beef burgers wrapped in homemade buns which was more than sufficient to distract Dean temporarily from his gift; and the fact that he hadn’t decided what Cas would like for Christmas yet.

The next day Dean was with Sam hunting a ghost.  Dean kept shouting out random present ideas for Cas, getting Sam’s opinion; which varied from ‘no way!’ to ‘too much information, dude!’  Dean was so distracted that the ghost managed to get the drop on him, throwing him into a wall and knocking him out cold.  He came round groggily to voices muttering in the background that quieted when he stretched and groaned. 

“Dean?”  Cas’ low tones sounded from close to his head and soft fingertips stroked briefly against his cheek. 

Dean opened his eyes.  He was on the bed in the motel that Sam and he had booked for the night because Cas was supposed to be in outer Mongolia or somewhere similar.  Maybe Cornwall now that he thinks about it. “Cas, what’re you doing here?”

“Sam called me,” Cas said, glancing over his shoulder at Sam, looking worried, hovering nearby.  He turned back to Dean.  “He was worried that you are … distracted.”  He hesitated.  “I’m worried that you are distracted. I don’t need a gift, Dean.” 

“Dude!  You told him,” Dean huffed in disgust at Sam, shuffling to a sitting position on the bed and winced as the blood pounded against the tender bruise on his head.   “Yeah, well, you’re getting one,” Dean grumbled back at Cas still glaring at Sam.  Cas opened his mouth to speak again, but Dean silenced him with a look.  Cas wisely shut his mouth without saying anything.

Sam was the one who finally interrupted the awkward silence.  “So, um, what time do you want us on Christmas day?  And how do we actually get there?”

Oh, yeah.  Dean had forgotten that neither Sam nor Bobby had ever been to their place before; hell, even Dean mostly got there with a ride from Cas.  He knew where it was, and he had a tattoo that let him in and out if he needed to do it on his own, but it wasn’t exactly just down the road.

“I will come and get you at 10am,” Cas looked relieved at the change of subject.  “I believe Dean will be awake by then,” he added, which Sam laughed at and Dean took exception to.  Cas disappeared and Dean went back to worrying about what to get Cas for Christmas.

On Christmas Eve, Dean’s present for Cas joined the other gifts under the tree.

On Christmas morning, Dean was actually awake early.  One tradition he’d been looking forward to, awesome Christmas morning sex with Cas, was obviously not going to happen because he was alone in the bed.  He could hear noises from down the hall and he could smell brewing coffee and fresh bread so he got up and took his morning erection to join Cas in the kitchen, still hopeful. 

Dean stood in the doorframe, under the mistletoe, watching Cas’ naked back as he dipped to the oven to take out the baked rolls.  Cas was wearing loose pajama pants that hung low on his hips, showing the curve of his spine and the top of his ass and given he was also topless, Dean’s erection was taking a lot of interest in the proceedings.

“I know you’re there,” Cas intoned, not turning round but placing the hot rolls on the surface to cool before removing the oven mitts and hanging them back on their hook.

“Watcha gonna do about it, then?”  Dean teased.  “I’m under some mistletoe over here.  Waiting and willing.”

Cas huffed a snort of amusement, turned and came to meet Dean in the doorway, noting the tenting in his pants.  He gazed at Dean, while Dean waited with invitation for the kiss that he hoped would lead to more.  Cas didn’t kiss him.  Well, not on the lips anyway.  Cas slid down to kneel on the floor; hooking fingers in Dean’s waistband he slid them over Dean’s hips and they fell to his ankles.  Dean held his breath, eyes down and watching as Cas leant in and kissed the head of Dean’s dick, caressing it with his tongue and his lips.  Dean moaned and his hips leant in a little towards Cas.  Cas moved both hands up to grip Dean’s hips, circling his thumbs over the jutting bone and holding Dean steady as his mouth moved up and down Dean’s dick at a slow, agonizingly sensitive pace.  When Dean started fidgeting in his hands, Cas pulled off and ran kisses and licks up and down the length of Dean’s dick from the tip to his balls and back, before taking him in his mouth again and sucking hard, with obscene slurping noises that had Dean groaning loudly as he continued to watch Cas’ mouth sliding up and down.  When he came a couple of minutes later with loud yells of appreciation, he’s freaking glad they don’t have any neighbors.

“That,” he declares after a few minutes when he’s got his breath back and Cas is back standing again facing him in the doorway, “is one tradition we are keeping!  C’m’ere,” he says, pulling Cas close to kiss him and moving a hand down to cup his erection in his pajamas. 

Cas wriggles away though, with a smile and a peck on Dean’s cheek.  “Later.  I have stuff to do now.”  Dean’s going to hold him to that.  Cas washes up and gets back to cooking.  Dean showers and dresses and returns to the kitchen to drape himself over Cas’ back breathing tender kisses on the back of his neck.  Although Cas pretends to ignore him, Dean can feel the little hairs on his nape prickle up and he smiles into the soft skin.

“Can you peel the potatoes?”  Cas asks without turning round, pretending there’s nothing going on.  Dean glances over Cas’ shoulder to see what he’s doing that means Cas can’t peel the potatoes; he’s doing something obscene to a Turkey as far as Dean can tell.

Dean grumbles but only half-heartedly.  “You know I can’t cook right?”

“You don’t need to be able to cook to peel potatoes,” Cas murmurs, not accepting that as an answer, “and I have to go and pick up Sam and Bobby when I’ve finished stuffing the Turkey.”  A bag of round green monstrosities is plonked unceremoniously on the counter-top next to Dean.  “And after you’ve done the spuds, can you prep the sprouts?”  Then as an afterthought, Cas adds “please.”

Dean pulls a face.  “I can’t stand sprouts!”

“You don’t have to eat them; you just have to prepare them.”

“But why are we having them?”

“Because,” says Cas, prodding Dean in the side more aggressively than Dean thinks is strictly necessary, “I like them.”

“You do?  I didn’t know that.”

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know, Dean.”  And that, right there, Dean thinks, is a smug smirk.  Cas turns back again to his Turkey.  “Sam likes them too.”

Dean grumbles at that, “yeah, but Sam’s weird.  Sometimes vegetables is all he eats.”  But he picks up the peeler anyway and gets started on the potatoes.

Cas disappears soon after and 5 minutes later he’s back with Sam.  He leaves him in the living room, disappears again and comes back with Bobby.  Dean comes through from the kitchen to find Cas plying them with eggnog, which he didn’t know they had.  Cas pours him one.  It’s potent and amazingly good and Dean knows by now he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

Sam and Bobby are standing in the living room in shock.  Neither of them have been there before and Dean’s kinda gotten used to how normal it is.  Seeing it anew through their eyes, he can see how they might be a bit taken aback.  He feels a bit guilty for not having brought them here before.

“I did the potatoes,” Dean says to Cas, ignoring Sam and Bobby’s open-mouthed expressions of ‘ _what the hell_?’ and hoping to get away with not having touched the sprouts.  No such luck.

“Thank you.  And the sprouts?”  Dean looks sheepish and Cas doesn’t look surprised.  “No matter.  Stay and keep Bobby and Sam company.  I’ll finish up.”

“Sprouts?”  Sam mouths silently at Dean, behind Cas’ departing back.

“It’s your fault, dude.  Apparently you like them,” Dean mutters when Cas is out of earshot.

“Yeah, well, I do, but I dunno; I thought we’d be having take-out burgers or something.”

Dean rolled his eyes fondly towards the kitchen, “oh, Cas cooks, man.  And he’s good, too.”

Sam and Bobby look a bit put out, and Bobby bluntly states, “so how come we haven’t been invited before to sample his amazing cooking skills?”

Dean grins and winks, “Yeah, well, mostly he cooks breakfast.  Half naked.  Don’t think you wanna be here for that.”  Sam and Bobby look like they agree.

Sam’s poking his head round the living room door into a long corridor that seems to taper into infinity and Dean shows them around.  They gawp at the reindeer which are now standing, happily chewing lichen, in a snow-filled garden with big fluffy flakes falling windless from the sky.  He shows them the music room and puts on a Christmas rock CD he finds near the player (Cas is awesome!), leaving the door open so the sound permeates through the other rooms.  Dean finds a couple of bedrooms he didn’t know were there, but that stopped surprising him a while ago.  They’re small and simple and Dean knows Cas would have worn himself out making them.  One is clearly for Sam, and one is clearly for Bobby.  “Guess you guys are staying,” Dean says to them, pleased.

Dinner is amazing, and Dean feels a little weird at how proud he is of Cas.  Dean even eats some of the sprouts because Cas has done something with them, fried them in bacon, and there’s something a bit sweet in there too and they’re actually edible; especially when bunched on a fork with turkey and bread sauce and mash potato.  There are Christmas crackers and Christmas pudding, and because Dean’s Dean, Cas has made apple pie too.  Bobby keeps saying how Cas is as good a cook as Karen, his wife, and Cas looks pleased; not smug, just pleased that everyone’s enjoying themselves.  Dean’s happy that Cas is happy.

When everyone’s sitting around feeling full, sipping good Whiskey for Bobby and Dean, and good Brandy for Sam (and Dean hadn’t known Sam preferred Brandy, but Cas did apparently), Cas wanders off.  After 5 minutes, Dean goes looking for him.  He’s sitting in the small study he uses that’s full of lore books, looking out of the (new) window staring at the (newish) garden, where the (newish) reindeer are still contentedly eating.

“You okay?”  Dean asks him, concerned, walking up behind him and wrapping his arms around his chest from behind.

“I am.”  Dean waits, as Cas is obviously thinking and Dean recognizes the signs that means he’ll say more.  “I didn’t see the point of making the effort for Christmas,” Cas finally admits.  “But I wanted to do it for you.”

“Cas, you did the most awesome job.  This is the best Christmas ever, by anyone’s standards,” and Dean kisses the back of Cas’ neck to emphasize his point.

Cas huffed a little, but in amusement, Dean knows. “Thank you, Dean.”  Dean knows the thanks isn’t for the praise he gave Cas, but for something deeper.

“What are you thanking me for, Dude?  you did everything,” Dean says, shuffling uncomfortably ‘cause he’s happy to do some chick-flick stuff but he’s reaching his limit.  Cas knows, of course.  He’s much better at reading all Dean’s emotions these days. 

“Time for presents,”  Cas decides, as a way out and grabs Dean’s hand and pulls him back into the living room.

Bobby and Sam are well on their way to very merry when Dean and Cas rejoin them, chucking one-liners at each other around the tree, and more than willing to open presents.

Dean bought Bobby a bottle of good Bourbon … and so had Cas and Sam.  Bobby didn’t seem to mind.

Sam gave Dean and Cas the entire collection of the Supernatural books, written by Chuck, and autographed.  Chuck had obviously thought this was funny and had added all sorts of comments and little drawings as author’s notes to various scenes throughout the book.  Dean flicked to the first time he’d seen Castiel in the barn.  Chuck had written a page note ‘ _obviously_ _want to fuck each other senseless_ ’, and added a visual reference which…okay.  Maybe they’ll read the rest of that later, he thought coughing nervously and closing the book.

Bobby gave Dean a journal he’d been making with a little gold letter title added to the leather cover ‘The Care and Feeding of your Angel’.  Dean had grimaced, but good-humouredly and was going to put it to one side for later, when Cas picked it up and leafed through it.  He looked impressed at the wards and notes Bobby had accumulated over the past couple of years since Cas had turned up.  He gave it back to Dean with a grave expression “You should read this.  You will learn something.”  Dean wasn’t sure how to take that, but Bobby and Sam both laughed and Cas was smiling now.

Bobby gave Cas a book too.  “Think of it as ‘The Care and Feeding of your Human’ he chortled as Cas unwrapped a copy of ‘Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus’ to which Cas had replied, confused “I’m not from Mars.  I’m not a man.  I’m not a woman.  Dean’s not from Mars. I don’t  understand that reference.” 

Sam got a whole bunch of dog toys and food and leads and beds and stuff from Cas and Dean that didn’t make any sense until Bobby and Cas nipped out of the room briefly and opened the door to an overly-affectionate Chocolate Lab they’d got from the rescue center, which Bobby had grumpily agreed to look after when Sam couldn’t.

Cas gave Dean a small amulet to replace the one Cas still had to help him search for his Dad.  It was warm in Dean’s hand and against his chest when he put it on, but a kind of comforting warmth.  “Dude, is this what I think it is?” he asked in expectant awe.

“You should be able to find me almost anywhere and I won’t be able to sneak up into your personal space anymore, Dean,” Cas intoned, before smiling slightly.  “I’ll show you what else it can do later.”  Bobby and Sam cringed and pretended to play with the dog.

Dean had spent a lot of time thinking about what he could get Cas.  When he’d finally worked it out, it just fit and he knew it was perfect.  Cas obviously thought so too when he unwrapped it.  Cas wasn’t the talkative type, but he was rarely stunned into speechlessness.  Dean looked at Cas, a hand briefly on his shoulder, eyes fondly on his face, before getting up and pouring everyone another drink.  Dean had rarely been happier.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Gift for visionshadows in the 2012 spn_j2_xmas gift exchange. I took Dean/Castiel, Domestic Fic, Happy Endings, Kissing from the prompts and likes. I hope you like. Happy holidays.


End file.
